To Make An End Is To Make

Would It Have Been Worth While, To Have Bitten Off The Matter With A Smile, To Have Squeezed The Universe Into A Ball To Roll It Towards Some Overwhelming Question

To Approach The Stranger Is To Invite The Unexpected, Release A New Force, Let The Genie Out Of The Bottle. It Is To Start A New Train Of Events That Is Beyond Your Control.

History May Be Servitude. History May Be Freedom. See, Now They Vanish. The Faces And Places, With The Self Which, As It Could, Loved Them, To Become Renewed, Transfigured, In Another Pattern.

Every Nation, Every Race, Has Not Only Its Own Creative, But Its Own Critical Turn Of Mind; And Is Even More Oblivious Of The Shortcomings And Limitations Of Its Critical Habits Than Of Those Of Its Creative Genius.

We Do Not Pass Twice Through The Same Door Or Return To The Door Through Which We Did Not Pass.